Carry On My Wayward Son
by allons-y573
Summary: Rose has been trapped in the parallel universe for three months, having given up on ever seeing the Doctor again. But due to intervention from the TARDIS, the Doctor is back, only Rose has never met this version of him. Eight/Rose; adult situations.


**_A/N... I recently saw the Doctor Who movie, and I instantly fell in love with Paul McGann's eighth doctor. He was the only bright spot in a not so great made-for-television movie, and I instantly wished he'd had his own series. And I love the tenth doctor, but this story about eight just begged to be written._**

**_Thank you to cybrokat and araeofsomething for the beta work. This reads much better because of them._**

**_And a thank you to my reader, FSLBlack, who pointed out the song is by Kansas and not Journey. Yes, that is what happens when you are trying to type the lyrics to one song, but listening to a totally different one while trying to post at 1am. _**

**_As always, if you recognise it, it belongs to the BBC._**

* * *

_Carry on my wayward son,_

_There'll be peace when you are done._

_Lay your weary head to rest,_

_Don't you cry no more._

_-Kansas, 'Carry On My Wayward Son'_

* * *

"Bloody hell!" Rose cursed loudly as she slammed her fist on the horn, barely avoiding the car that had swerved into her lane.

Breathing deeply, she slowly calmed down, and glanced down at her mobile. Rose cursed once again as she noticed the time. _Late again, _she thought as she pushed the accelerator a bit more forcefully.

This was her second interview with Torchwood, a follow-up to the disastrous first one almost a fortnight ago. Although she had spilled tea on the assistant director, called him the wrong name, and nearly shut the door on his arm... she still had the job. Considering her now-step-father was the director, the job was hers no matter what. Not that she wanted it. It reminded her too much of _him._

_Three fucking months. 92 days, 3 hours, and 30-something minutes._ That's how long she had been stuck in this awful world. Zeppelins, not planes, and Presidents, not Prime Ministers. They didn't even have Harry Potter, for Christ sake. She hated this universe, and practically everything in it, save for Mum and Pete.

A horn blaring at her brought her out of those depressing thoughts, reminding her that the signal had now turned green. She quickly made the last two turns and parked in the nondescript car park a few blocks from Torchwood. Why they couldn't have parking a little closer to the building, especially considering the heels she had donned for the interview, was beyond her comprehension. As she stumbled out of the car in the unfamiliar heels, she heard a faint sound that she had not heard in months.

_No._

_It can't be... _

But nothing else sounded like the TARDIS. For over two years she had heard that sound, and not only heard it, but over time had even learned to feel its presence. _Her presence,_ her mind corrected. Although she still wasn't totally knowledgeable of the events of the game station, she did know that she now had a connection to the blue box that she hadn't had before. And not only could she hear it coming in, she could feel it as well. Feelings of pain and a faint call for help emanated from the direction of the noise.

She scrambled out of the car and started walking as quickly as she could. Pulling off the heels, she began to run towards the sound. Although it sounded like the TARDIS, _her_ TARDIS, it also sounded different. She watched as it came in quickly through the atmosphere, tearing through greenery as it came in sideways, only righting itself as it crashed into a tree.

For several minutes, there was no movement coming from the TARDIS. She stared it for several moments, noticing the differences from the last time she had seen it. The exterior was scorched, and several of the windows were cracked, a few actually knocked out.

She gasped as an unfamiliar man stumbled out. A man with brown curly locks, and Victorian clothes. He haggardly walked towards her, mumbling something about "War" and chanting "I can't do it" before his eyes rolled back and he fell to the ground.

Rose ran towards him to make up the brief distance and placed her hands on his chest, breathing a sigh of relief when she felt the familiar double heartbeats. _Just unconscious. _She studied him momentarily, noticing the differences between this man and the two versions of him that she had fallen in love with. Twirling a finger through his wavy locks, she noticed this version of him was quite attractive as well. She hoped that once he awoke, she would be able to find similarities in his personality as well.

Pulling him into the shade, she pulled off her jumper and placed it underneath his head. After she was sure that he wouldn't be found and that he was stable, she cautiously walked towards the TARDIS and stopped as she reached the door. She gently pulled the chain out of her blouse and stared at the key for several seconds before gently lifting the chain over her head.

Holding her breath, she put the key in the door and gasped as it opened immediately.

Her eyes were wide as she walked in, staring at the unfamiliar console. The room was nothing like it had been when she travelled with the Doctor, yet the thrum of the TARDIS was just as reassuring as it had been on _her_ TARDIS. Walking towards the console with its Victorian knobs and buttons, she placed a hand on the rotor and felt a reassuring presence in her mind. _Trust me._

A series of images flashed on a screen above her. A slow progression of eight different men, stopping on the man that had stumbled out of the TARDIS. A nudge in her mind... _Help him_... as the last image stayed frozen on the screen.

"I will," she replied as she gave the rotor one last nostalgic stroke.

Rose exited the TARDIS and walked back towards the Doctor. Although he wasn't her Doctor, he was still The Doctor, and he needed her help. She knelt on the ground, and brushed a chestnut lock out of his face. He wasn't as tall as her doctor, or as thin, but there was something about him that reminded her strongly of her own Doctor. As she pushed another lock of hair away from his eyes, he started to rouse and jerked quickly away from her touch.

"Where am I?" he asked cautiously, concern evident in his raspy voice.

"Cardiff," she replied, not wanting to give away too much.

"Cardiff," he repeated slowly. A look of uncertainty on his face. "Wales... Earth" he mumbled shortly after waking more fully.

"Yes, Earth," Rose replied, giving him a reassuring smile. "It is 2008, if that helps."

The Doctor's eyebrows rose in shock, "But... you... how?" He tried to push himself back, away from Rose, as fear seemed to grip him. But in his weakened state, he only managed a few centimeters before he fell back once again.

Before he could get agitated, Rose gently placed a finger on his lips. "I am a friend... I mean you no harm. I will explain when I get you somewhere safe. But you are injured, and we need to leave. Please let me help you...," she paused, hoping he would tell her his name.

The Doctor remained silent for several seconds, before nodding his acquiescence affirmatively. She gently pulled him up, putting one arm around his waist as he wrapped one arm around her neck.

"John," he mumbled as they walked towards the car. "You can call me John. What is your name?"

"Marion." She smiled at him as she helped him into the car.

-ooOOoo-

"You're finally awake." She placed a tray of food on the bedside table, then sat on the edge of the bed, the upper half of her body turned to face him.

"Where am I? How long have I been asleep?" The Doctor sat up and looked around the room suspiciously.

"You are at my flat, outside of Cardiff. And you were asleep for six hours." She pointed to the tray on the table. "I'm not sure what you like, but all I had were a few tins of soup. I hope you like Chicken Noodle with some crisps and some water."

He reached for the water, and finished the glass in just a few deep swallows. "Thank you." As he picked at the crisps, he stopped as he had a sudden realisation. "Wait... why did you tell me the year?"

"You seem to be," she paused, looking for the right word that wouldn't cause alarm, "a traveller. I am familiar with... travellers."

"How? This is just the early 21st century... you shouldn't be... well," he scratched at his head, "I'm saying too much." He grimaced as he turned away from her.

"My father works for Torchwood. We are familiar with travellers, and I had a friend that was a Time Agent." She stopped suddenly, wondering whether she had already told him too much, possibly affecting both of their time lines.

"Ah," he replied, swinging his legs over the bed, and stopping once he realised that he was only in pants and a thin shirt. He blushed as he quickly pulled the sheet back over his body.

"Where are my clothes? I need to get back to my TAR— er, ship— and make repairs. I have to get back." He eyes scanned the room frantically. "I don't know how I got here, but I need to get back."

"First, your clothes were filthy and I tossed them in the wash. And second, you are in no condition to leave. Whatever it is that you need to get back to, it can wait until you are healthy enough. Got that?"

"But you have no idea. I have to get back. I'm the only one that can—" He stopped suddenly as she spoke the one word that could have gotten his attention. "What did you say?"

"War. You were talking about a war when you stumbled out of your... ship. And I don't care if it is a war you have to get back to, you have to be well enough to fight in it. Two days." She gave him a stern look as she placed the tray back on the table.

"Two days?" His look of confusion almost made her gasp, it was so familiar to an expression that her doctor had made numerous times.

"Two days to rest and recover. Then you can do your repairs and leave. You'll not be doing any good in a fight if you aren't well first. And please, let me help. You look like you could use a friend." She gently put her hand on his, noticing this time that he did not flinch.

"A friend?" He looked towards her in surprise.

"Yes. A friend."

-ooOOoo-

"Thank you, but you didn't have to bring those in here," Rose pointed at the cups that the Doctor had placed in the sink. "You are my guest, and you are still recovering."

"Nonsense," he replied, offering her a tight smile. "It is the least I can do after all you've done for me." He pointed at the clothing he was wearing as he sat down at the small table. "I do have a question, though." He pulled at the collar to his shirt nervously, and stared down at his entwined hands.

"Yes?" She looked at him curiously. This version of the doctor seemed much more... _vulnerable?_... than her doctor.

"Why are you helping me? I mean, you have no way of knowing whether I'm one of the good guys or the bad. What made you decide to help me?"

Rose gave him a thoughtful look. "Call it intuition, or a sixth-sense, but I just knew you weren't a bad person. I'm a pretty good judge of character most of the time." There was no way she could tell him that she had had a discussion with his TARDIS, and except for Jimmy Stone, she had been a pretty good judge of character in the past. She just hoped that this explanation would do for now.

He nodded, but continued to rub his hands nervously. "Can I ask you another question, Marion?"

"Of course." She sat down across from him and grasped his hand.

"If you had to make an important decision... let's say you had to hurt many people you cared about, but it would save many more than that over time... would you do it?" His expression was haunted, and it almost made her heart break to see him in pain.

Rose took a deep breath. He had to be talking about the war. _The Time War._ Although her Doctor had only mentioned it briefly, she knew that he had ended the war by killing all of his people. He had sacrificed his planet to save hundreds—thousands—of planets. Her answer to this question could change both of their futures if she did not answer it correctly.

"Yes, I would. Would it be easy? No, but the right decisions rarely are." She squeezed his hand and gave him a thoughtful look. She thought back to the day that Pete caught her, saving her from the void, and a solitary tear rand down her cheek. "You have to do what's right, not what's easy."

"Thank you, Marion. I think I really needed to hear that. I wanted to do the right thing, but at the last minute... I couldn't. The fighting had become fierce, and I... ran away. Somehow I ended up here."

"Maybe you needed to be here," Rose pulled his hand to her lips and kissed it softly.

"Maybe I did."

-ooOOoo-

Rose sat up quickly from her make-shift bed on the sofa, hearing the faint moans and whimpers coming from her bedroom. He must be having a nightmare, she thought as she hurriedly arose and headed towards the room. She was quite familiar with nightmares, having experienced quite a few both in her own travels with doctor and when she had been left on this world. The first few weeks back, her mum had been a lifesaver when she had comforted her during the night, offering her hugs and a warm shoulder to lean on.

She carefully opened the door, not wanting to startle him and make the situation worse.

"John?" she whispered as she approached the bed. He didn't respond, and continued to thrash in the bed. Tears were running down his eyes as he moaned, "I can't" over and over again.

Rose gently grasped his arm and shook him as she spoke a bit louder. "John, wake up. You're having a nightmare."

John's eyes slowly opened, and he was still shaking slightly as he looked at Rose with glassy eyes. "I can't do it, Marion. I can't."

"It was just a nightmare, John."

He stifled a sob and turned towards her. "But it isn't a nightmare. Not yet. But if I do this, it will haunt me forever."

Rose carefully sat beside him on the edge of the bed, unsure of what to say to him. He was right... this would haunt him forever. The version of him that she had first met had been so damaged from that decision.

"Oh, John," she pulled him close and hugged him briefly. "Would it help if I stayed in here until you went back to sleep?"

"That isn't necessary," he replied softly.

Rose nodded and started to leave the room, but heard the Doctor mutter quietly, "Thank you, Marion," as she pulled the door to.

-ooOOoo-

"_Rose, where are you? Where have you been? The interview was three days ago, and you never showed up. I might be the director, but I can't get you in if you don't show up. Rose... please. Your mum is worried, and so am I. Please give us a ring before you go to sleep tonight."_

Rose deleted the message and then stretched out on the couch. Her flat was so quiet now, even though she had lived alone for over three months. But she had become accustomed to John—the Doctor—for the past couple of days. How could one person change everything so quickly? _ But he wasn't just any person, he's the Doctor. _ Even though this version of him did not know her, she knew him. Loved him, even_ this _him.

Rose knew that he hadn't left Earth yet. Or at least she had hoped so. He had promised to come by when he was through with his repairs. To say goodbye. But this version of him didn't know her. Didn't love her. Not that she was sure that her version had been in love with her, but at least he had strong feelings for her, she was sure of it. But surely she knew him well enough to assume he would keep his promises.

She reached over to the bookcase behind her and grabbed a tattered romance book that she had borrowed from her mum. She flipped it open and started to read it when she heard the unmistakable sound of the TARDIS materializing.

As much as she wanted to open the door and run out to it, she knew that she couldn't let him know that she had any knowledge of his ship. She closed the book, and tried—and failed—to wait patiently on the couch.

Opening the door before he had even finished knocking, she smiled at him as she looked him over. He had changed back into his own clothes, but they were no longer Victorian. His frock coat and cravat had been replaced by a t-shirt and leather jacket. _And his hair._ He had cut off the long curls, and it was now much shorter. She couldn't stop the small gasp that had escaped as she realised how much he now reminded her of her first doctor. The man he would become once the war was over.

"I've finished the repairs to my ship." He gave her a nervous smile, fidgeting slightly with a button on his jacket.

"Oh," Rose replied. "So you are ready to leave?" She barely kept the disappointment from her voice.

"Yes. I just wanted to say goodbye... and to thank you, Marion. These last few days... well...," he blushed and turned away slightly.

"You're welcome. Can you come in... just for a cuppa before you go?"

"Er... okay."

"It's a bit warm in here," Rose yelled as she walked towards the small kitchen. "You can put your jacket on the chair." She made the tea as quickly as she could, trying to make small talk from a different room.

"As I was saying—," she stopped abruptly as she entered the room, almost spilling the hot tea on her hands.

He quickly closed the romance novel, a slight blush appearing on his cheeks. "I'm sorry... it was just on the table and—"

"It's my mum's." Rose grabbed it and quickly shoved it back on the shelf. She sat beside him awkwardly and handed him the tea. A few moments of silence ensued before Rose once again regained her composure.

Rose looked over at John—_not John, the Doctor_—and realised that this may be the very last time she would see him. Any version of him. Panic suddenly gripped her as she wondered if she had done enough to get him to make the right decisions. To keep him fighting. To keep him alive.

"John... please be careful." Without thinking, she reached up and gently stroked him on the cheek.

"Marion," he whispered, right before his resolve faltered and a tear ran down his cheek. He turned his head away, hoping that she would not see the tears as they started to flow. "I thought I could do this... go back, and finish it. But... I," he stopped as a sob wracked his body.

Rose reached towards him and gently wiped the tears from his eyes. "You can do it, John." She leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. "Let me be your strength."

-ooOOoo-

It was fast and furious as they quickly disrobed in Rose's bedroom. Rose drank in his lean but athletic build as he pulled the shirt over his head and started to unfasten his trousers. She wasn't even sure what had led to this moment, but she was positive that it was something that they both needed.

As John disrobed down to his pants, Rose pulled him closer and grasped his hips, easing them carefully over his erection. "Are you sure about this?" he asked breathlessly, as he started to slide her knickers down her legs.

"Yes. Please, John," Rose replied as she pulled him onto the bed and over her. She was already wet and ready for him, and opened her legs to him in anticipation.

There was no foreplay involved as he quickly pushed into her, mumbling something in a language that she was unfamiliar with. But she had been ready, and moaned as he quickly filled her. Although Rose loved the Doctor... even _this_ Doctor, she knew that for him this was comfort and need. He needed this... and he needed her. Now. She closed her eyes and moaned as he increased his pace.

She could feel him swell as his orgasm approached, and she reached between them to stroke her clit as he thrust. As she felt her peak getting closer, she moved her other hand to his back, gently stroking it in time to his thrusts. "Doctor!" she moaned as they climaxed simultaneously.

His eyes opened wide momentarily, wondering at what point he had slipped and mentioned that he was called the Doctor, but he couldn't recall that he had. Shaking off the feeling, he slowly slipped out of her and slid behind her on the bed, gently spooning her backside.

"Thank you, Marion." He whispered into her her ear after several minutes, knowing that she had already drifted off to sleep. "You have helped me more than you will ever know." He kissed the back of her neck as he quietly slipped off the bed.

-ooOOoo-

Rose awoke the next morning, and instantly knew that he was gone. She knew she must have been exhausted to have slept through the TARDIS dematerialising. But it had been the best sleep she had had in—well, to be honest—since she had been stuck in this dreadful universe.

Somehow, in the course of just three days, she had gained a new perspective. She could do this... survive in this universe. As soon as she got dressed, she was going to finish her interview at Torchwood. If the Doctor could somehow get to this universe, then she knew she could get back to him. And she would.


End file.
